


Who I Am

by teselaic



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 11:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18207752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teselaic/pseuds/teselaic
Summary: Is the truth.. really enough? Or is it too much - will it separate their bond, break time and space?He doesn’t think so... as for her.. well.He’s still himself, isn’t he?- set after season 3 that god awful cliffhanger after Cain died -





	Who I Am

She hesitated for a moment, the cursed words almost spilling out of her mouth once more, but one look in his eyes made her think twice. 

 

Of course, he had said it a million times. 

He never lied. 

She took a deep breath and met his burning gaze once more. His face contrasted with the white walls behind him, and illuminated by the light - she could see each and every mark, every scar, every red hue and how it flamed with passion. While rough edges contorted his face and his eyes glowed red, she found his facial appearance comforting, if not familiar. The suit he donned, seemed more out of place than ever... 

Expect Lucifer to surprise her at every turn, of course. Not that she was looking for horns or anything, nope. 

The detective took a hesitant step forward. The Devil watched her warily, “I won’t steal your soul, I promise. You’ll probably end up going to the Silver City anyways.” He smiled to himself, albeit sadly. 

The smile looked crude upon his strikingly demonic face, even more out of place than his suit. She scoffed at that, then realized the severity of what he had just said. 

“When you mean, ‘the Silver City’-“ 

“Heaven, the promised land, the City of God, moksha, Olympus, Nirvana, Abraham's bloody bosom.” Lucifer waves his hands in the air. 

He gestures to Pierce’s body. “A place that this guy is not going even if he believes his conscious is free of guilt, I can guarantee that.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. 

She raises an eyebrow, “... Olympus?” Chloe asks, not with fear but of an automatic curiosity. Who would’ve thought the Greeks could be right yet again? Some geniuses they were. 

He shrugs, “The Tower of Babel is the only reason why war and peace won’t ever coexist - you humans are never going to understand each other again. Made my life so much harder after that. You wouldn’t believe the influx of souls that came right after. Let me tell you - it was definitely not Christmas. And I don’t bloody understand why you humans have such a day; Jesus was always a dramatic one, loved the attention. But place him on a pedestal? I’d think twice for the sake of his ego.” 

At this, she chuckled, “Yeah, well.” The irony was plain to see. She took another step forward, less hesitantly than she had done before, comforted that he was still the same person. After all, he was, wasn’t he? 

Of course. She could feel it, standing that much closer to him, the irresistible pull that she always felt, one that grounded her, let her put on a brave face and stand up for what she truly believed in. It was that same pull she felt every time she saw him that tugged on her heart, that told her to let go of that same mask. 

Her cold blue eyes met his calm red ones. She took another step forward. No hesitation whatsoever, because she saw what she always had seen, a passion for good, for justice, one she sees everyday in her own eyes. 

It made sense now. How he was betrayed by everyone, just looking out for those who couldn’t stand up to their persecutors like he hadn’t been able to. How all he wanted to do was fit in, be loved, accepted. How all he wanted was someone who saw him for who he was rather than who they thought he was.

She gave a small smile, then in a blink, felt herself in his arms. Surprisingly, it didn’t shock her as much as she thought it would. Laying her head on his chest, she sighed in content. Still the same, then. But she couldn’t get enough, she had to make sure he was okay. Her arms wrapped around him and he flinched. She frowned. 

It wasn’t that hard to give a hug, after all, Ella managed it fairly easily. Then again, she did go around hugging almost everyone she met. Chloe shifted in his arms, trying to find a different way of hugging, maybe her arms were too short. It was a bit uncomfortable. 

“Ah ah ah, detective. It’s not you, it’s me.” He said, his voice resonating beside her just as she was withdrawing her arms. She looked up, confused at his clichéd line. Her frown deepened. Was he not interested in her anymore? Did he think because he’s the Devil she wouldn’t want him? 

Do emotions hurt while being the Devil? 

She scowled at her thoughts, rolling her eyes internally. All of these metaphors - no, the facts - were going to drive her crazy. Way too many questions. Not the time. Might never be “that time” if he doesn’t like her like she does. She shivered, thrown back in the past... his whole place covered in white sheets, the sound of a place that never was, never could’ve, never should’ve been silent.

He chuckled, “No, Chloe, I’m not leaving you, not again. I couldn’t handle Vegas even with all of its lavish and distractions, not without my partner. How would you expect me to manage anything else without you?” He smiled sadly at her. 

“Cain managed to get his hands on hell’s dagger, got a nasty cut.” He winces, then laughs softly, his face scrunching up in pain. “By the way, did anyone mention that you’d make a great detective? Brilliant deductive skills.” 

She slaps his uninjured arm, smiling despite herself. She finds her eyes meeting deep brown ones instead of red ones she had expected and looks down at her feet. 

At which she notices the feathers. He’s right, her skills are on point today. 

Chloe sighs, wraps her arms around him in a more comfortable position, snuggles in deeper into his arms. Home. She wouldn’t know what to do without him, his perfection, his humor, his wit... even his secrets. 

He had her charmed right from the beginning, though she desperately tried to hide it, a mask she composed throughout her hardships that she faced. But now, with him, she could let those barriers down. She chuckles softly, close to him. 

“What?” He looks down at her, his eyes sparkling in amusement. 

“It’s nothing... it’s just I’ve spent all of my time putting up a mask and now when I let that fall, yours shows up.” She reaches a hand to touch his cheek. “But it’s no mask, is it? You let your guard down too.” 

“I suppose that’s one way of seeing it,” Lucifer hesitates, “You’re not afraid of who I am? The Devil?” 

Chloe smiles softly, “I told you before: I don’t see you that way. You’re not, not to me. You just have a bad reputation, that’s all. And that’s not just in Hell; being a bar owner isn’t the greatest title, either.” 

“Chloe, you’re right! You’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on.” He practically bounces with glee.

She groans sarcastically, her eyes rolling and she steps out of the embrace. Even as she does, she still is filled with exuberant joy. “Not that I don’t see you everyday or anything, or spend every waking moment with you already.”

“I was beginning to think you were starting to like me, Detective.” Smirking, he fades out, a dreamlike state washing over his devilish features, his brown eyes. “Not to fear, Lucifer is here! Detective Morningstar!” He grins to himself then blinks, his gaze back on her. 

“Yes, sounds apt, don’t you think?” He straightens our his suit, buttons his blazer. 

“I’ll meet you back at the precinct!” And with a final grin, he strides over to the exit. But not before he twirls back to look at her.

“Actually,” Lucifer says shyly, “did you want to grab something to eat? A proper meal without the candles and all?” 

He looks down at his shoes before glancing back up with curious eyes, ones that seem to glow. 

And not red, but how it always is when he says “Detective”. 

Or when she says they have a case. 

Or when he finds her face after arriving to the precinct in the early mornings. 

 

It’s a look that straightens her mind, clears her of her doubts, her confusions. She definitely wants to spend every moment, the rest of her life, all of eternity with him. She nods once, a movement that thrills her bones, revitalizes her heart, and shoots adrenaline down her spine. It’s a date. 

 

A date with her fallen angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least, that's what they hoped would have happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course he is. 
> 
> And nothing - nothing - is going to tear them apart. 
> 
> ~ end: date scene (short!) ~ 
> 
> “I’d go to Hell and back for you, Detective.” 
> 
> “Well. I already did.” 
> 
> “But you know. I’d do it again. Probably not soon, though.” 
> 
> “Because I want to spend all of my time... with you.”


End file.
